


Sick Of Losing Soulmates (JOSH DUN)

by RockWithItWriting



Category: Twenty One Pilots, josh dun - Fandom
Genre: Other, tw abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-30
Updated: 2016-06-30
Packaged: 2018-07-19 06:05:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7348105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RockWithItWriting/pseuds/RockWithItWriting
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Word count: 1433</p><p>Trigger warnings: slight domestic abuse and depression-related topics.</p><p>Requested: Yes</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sick Of Losing Soulmates (JOSH DUN)

**  
**It wasn’t that you were stuck in the relationship. It was that you were barely out of your teens, only twenty years old, and still drowning in what you thought was love. It was love, yes, but young love that made you cry yourself to sleep each night hoping your lover wouldn’t hear. **  
**

You rushed into the relationship because your lover was a beacon of light in the dark, a lantern on a stormy sea. You leaned on them for love, for attention.

Then you met Josh Dun. His band was preparing to release their new album Blurryface when he sought solace in the coffee shop where you worked. He smiled at you and you recognized him almost instantly. Josh Dun of Twenty One Pilots. Of course you kept your cool (somehow) and asked for a picture as you handed over his coffee and pastry.

“I’m surprised I hadn’t seen this place before,”Josh mused, looking behind him to make sure nobody was in line behind him, “I’ve been here like four times before this and I’ve never seen it.” You smiled and began to wipe down the counter.

“It’s a relatively new place,” You said, “I think Marco opened it up a year or two ago.” Josh looked around to bustling of the cafe.

“It’s pretty busy to only be a year old.” He observed. You nodded, trying to hold the blush creeping up your neck down. His phone rang in his pocket and he excused himself from the cafe, giving you a small wave and a big grin.

Josh came back for three weeks, everyday and each time you talked you became closer. Soon you were telling Josh secrets you hadn’t even told your lover. He was telling you things He never told Tyler. You became good friend, exchanging phone numbers and texting when he didn’t visit the shop or you had a day off. But you didn’t tell him he was your only friend, the secret you were keeping from your lover. You didn’t know what you would do without him after a couple of weeks because his smile kept you sane and he lifted your mood.

Your lover found out, found you smiling over a text and they became angry. They lashed out, taking your phone, screaming yelling. You cried, oh, you cried. You were sick of losing friends because of them.

After they stormed out, leaving you cold and alone, you shakily found the landline and dialed Josh’s cell number, hoping he picked up.

When he did, he called out softly. Josh probably thought it was a fan who had found his number, or maybe he had thought you leaked it but when he heard you softly sobbing, crawling to your sterile white bathroom and locking the door he called your name.

“Josh,” You gasped, closing your eyes and curling into a ball, “I can’t- I can’t!” You wanted to tell him you couldn’t be his friend anymore, you couldn’t talk to him or see him anymore. Hell, you probably wouldn’t be able to listen to his music anymore either. You didn’t realize that this wasn’t love, it wasn’t how it should  have been.

Josh wouldn’t understand. You barely understood. Not that you believed in soulmates, it was always a fuzzy concept, but if you did Josh would be yours. Maybe platonically, maybe romantically. You had plenty of platonic soulmates, sure, but they were driven away because of your lover and your harsh words. The thought of losing Josh when you had lost everyone else made you feel like there was no end in sight.

“Hey,” He coaxed once your sobbing had calmed down, “Hey, you’re okay. I’m okay. We’re okay.”

“No we’re not!” You cried, slapping your palm against the linoleum. “We’re not okay! I’m screwed up! I’m screwed to hell and nothing can fix me!” You pressed your cheek harder into the floor, the puddle of tears squelching out of the way.

“So am I,” Josh said, voice soft. It was like he was talking to a wounded tiger, “I’m screwed up and Tyler is too. Okay? You can get through this, please.” Josh’s voice was shaking because he was scared. You didn’t reply, closing your eyes. Josh said your name, once, twice, thrice. He yelled out for you but you cleared your throat.

“Josh, I’m sorry. I can’t be friends anymore.”

And you hung up the phone.

* * *

 

You remembered when Josh had first gave you his number. He had said, and you remember it perfectly because who wouldn’t?

“Look,” He said, smirking, as he handed you a slip of paper, “If I give you this if you promise to be one of my best friends for until death!”

“For until death?” You had asked, smiling as he pressed the paper into your palm. Josh nodded.

“For until death.” he said.

You nodded, “For until death,” You repeated, a grin spreading on your face.

* * *

 

Just one more promise you had broken. You had said that to so many people that you’d be there till death and then lied. Left. Abandoned them. You laid on the floor for almost an hour thinking about every time you had promised Josh that you would be there. You almost felt lost without Josh’s text messages but eventually you picked yourself up and put your smile back on. That night you slept alone.

Three weeks passed and your lover had left you. You were devastated for the first few weeks, but cleaned up. You chucked their stuff from your apartment and moved more of your stuff in. Everyday you thought about texting Josh, or Tyler, or Jenna, but you didn’t. How could you? You had watched one interview with Josh since the phone call on the floor and he looked worn and ragged, heartbroken. You had done that to him. It was your fault.

But you were sick of losing soulmates, ready to move on from a relationship that had ruined the better part of you teen life and the beginning of your adult life. Sitting in bed, laptop glowing, you bought one ticket for the front row of Twenty One Pilots concert the moment they went on sale. You didn’t care if he just wanted to be friends, you didn’t care if he wanted to date you. You just needed Josh in your life. You wouldn’t take no for an answer.

The day of the concert was stressful. You arrived early, face painted. People took pictures with you, both of you grinning with nerves. But the moment was there. You had gotten the courage to call Jenna, who in turn handed the phone over to Mark, who had planned out a whole special thing for Josh. It could either go up in flames or end really well. You hoped it was the latter because you didn’t know how well Josh rejecting you would go over.

The concert was…. Well it was great. You loved every moment of it because the music pumped through your veins and you screamed and jumped with the crowd. You had been pushed into the barrier some and it would leave bruises on your hips but you didn’t care. Josh looked… Josh looked hot. Tyler did too but from where you were standing you could see Jenna thinking the same thing.

“Alright,” Tyler said, right after he was done with Message Man, “We’ve been told that there’s someone special has a message for our drummer Josh, so we’re gonna bring the house lights up.” And you hoped Josh could read the words on your face. You raised both of your hands and put up the Twenty One Pilots symbol. You couldn’t force a smile onto your face because you were pale with worry and Josh put his hands above his forehead, trying to see out into the crowd. “But we have no idea what Mark’s talking about.”

Josh locked eyes with you and for a moment everything stopped. His face fell but then it lit up and he was scrambling over his drums, pulling the security guards to drag you over the barrier and onto the stage. His arms wrapped around you and he buried his face into your neck.

“Did you really paint ‘I’m sorry’ on your face?” He said, leaning back. The crowd was screaming, but confused, “For me?”

“I’m sorry,” You whispered. He shook his head and grinned.

“You’re here now, it’s okay.” He said. “I want to kiss you. I wanted to kiss you ever since I gave you my number.” He looked out to the crowd.

And you said, “Do it.”


End file.
